The Magic, Warped (The MagicWarper Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Liane shot a glare at her Proctor. “I thought I was doing well in Decorum, Proctor?” she asked.

  Cassandra lifted an eyebrow at her Assistant's shift from informal to formal speech. “You use only the full formality of the Decorum, never deviating, never using a more informal style when it would do, without a single hint of either insight or subtlety. Who taught you Decorum, Assistant?” she asked, focusing her gaze onto her young partner, subtly emphasizing the last word.

  “The Lord Milor Lightningworker has been teaching me for the last month, and before then, I have received some instruction at the Academy while my magic was being worked on,” Liane explained, before swallowing, and adding, “Cassandra.”

  Cassandra gave a sharp nod at the use of her name. “There is no need for added formality when we are alone,” she repeated herself from earlier. “I do not know the lord Milor Lightningworker, and sporadic instruction by the Lords and Ladies at the Academy would not be sufficient to fully prepare you. I can understand why your Decorum is not up to standards.” She waved her hand. “It does not matter. I will teach you what you need to know.”

  “Thank you, Cassandra,” Liane whispered.

  “Do not thank me yet, Liane. You haven't been my student yet,” Cassandra said with a nasty grin tugging on her lips. “There is a reason why my fellow students all fear me enough not to come to me for assistance for scholastic assistance, even though I am the best student in my year.”

  Liane gulped. Just what had she gotten herself into?

  Cassandra bit out a single laugh at the look on her young Assistant's face. “Come. Tomorrow we'll start studying, but tonight we'll celebrate your welcome,” she said, placing her hand back on the nightstand and whispering a few words that Liane couldn't make out. The two empty cocoa cups vanished, while two empty glasses appeared. Cassandra took them, and immediately, the air warped again, materializing a bottle of whiskey.

  Cassandra poured two drinks. “My own Proctor celebrated with me the very night I became her Assistant, and I will do the same for you,” the older girl said, handing the drink to Liane.

  Liane sniffed the alcohol, and felt it burn all the way up to her sinuses. Again, Cassandra laughed at the face Liane made, before throwing back her drink. “Come on, drink. I'll pour you another.”

  Shrugging, the girl did as she was told, threw back the shot of alcohol, and started hacking and coughing at the strange sensation of alcohol numbing her mouth and burning down her esophagus.

  *****

  The next morning, Liane wished she hadn't indulged her Proctor. Her head was pounding, the room seemed colored in black and white, and she had apparently slept underneath one of the desks, curled up in her thick robes. Even the light streaming in through the large windows burned her eyes.

  “Good morning, Assistant!” Cassandra greeted her cheerfully, holding out a glass.

  “I hate you, Proctor,” Liane muttered quietly – but not quietly enough.

  Cassandra lifted an eyebrow. “Is that something to say to your kind and beautiful Proctor? Especially when she brings you a hangover cure?”

  Liane blinked up at Cassandra, still mostly underneath the desk. “I love you, Proctor,” she said with complete sincerity.

  “That's better!” Cassandra said, handing the glass over to Liane. “Drink up. You'll feel better in ten seconds.”

  Liane being younger, and smaller, the cure only took eight seconds, causing her to reaffirm her love for her Proctor. With not much further ado, they got dressed, and went to breakfast. The moment they crossed the threshold of their room, both Liane and Cassandra reverted to the full Decorum – only with Cassandra holding up an almost-continuous monologue on how to take notes, the different classes, and the different tasks that would be expected of her new Assistant, interjected with notes on Decorum and etiquette.

  The young Assistant worked overtime trying to assimilate all the new knowledge her Proctor was giving her, especially before the first class started.

  Breakfast was a horrid affair for Liane. Even though the hangover cure had taken care of much of her hangover, her stomach still rebelled plenty, and all she managed to get down were a couple of slices of plain toast and a glass of water.

  After breakfast, Liane followed her new Proctor to the first class of the day: Blood Magic. It sounded rather interesting to Liane, but she had no time to dwell on her own thoughts, as Cassandra was continuing her monologue about her tasks and the various ways in which to complete them. Liane's memory was working overtime to remember it all.

  They had less than five minutes to wait before the arrival of their teacher and the start of class, and Liane spent it both reviewing the most immediate information Cassandra had given her, and taking a quick look at the other students. Only two dozen students were present, most of them upperclassmen, although three other Assistants were also present.

  The Doctora arrived, opening the door for them, and allowing the students to walk in and take their seats before sealing the door away.

  “Good morning, Lords and Ladies, and welcome to the single-year course in Blood Magic. I am aware that most of you are here to achieve an easy additional subject, as this course is only a single year in length,” the Doctora spoke, her dark eyes roaming the room. “That is not the case. In this year, we will handle some of the most insidious and personal aspects of magic. I will teach you to enhance spells using tribute of your own life's essence, and you will learn how to find someone, anywhere, anytime, using only a single specimen of their bodies. For, even though the course is named 'Blood Magic', fingernails and hair will track back to a person just as easily as blood will.”

  The class was silent, save for pens flowing across paper. Liane, remembering the things Cassandra had just told her, wrote down the most important aspects of the teacher's speech, then underlined the key words with a different color pen. Cassandra idly pointed out a few missed keywords. Liane shot her an apologetic look, then underlined them.

  “We will also be dealing with the theoretical aspects of the blood requirement in certain rituals and ceremonies, and why there is such a requirement in the first place, while other rituals do not require such,” the teacher finished. “Lords and Ladies, welcome to Blood Magic. First thing on the agenda, I will ask of each of you to donate a single drop of your blood, and I will show you how to create a tracking spell that will find you.” The teacher smiled without humor. “And then I will teach you how to protect yourself against blood-based tracking.”

  Liane's fingers hurt from writing down the information at such a quick pace. Writing down some information was easy when the teacher waited for you. Taking notes from a person who was just speaking and did not wait was a lot harder.

  As the class progressed, Liane practically stopped paying attention as she focused exclusively on taking notes. It was exhausting, and not nearly as informative as Liane had thought it would be. Most of the concepts went right over her head, building upon knowledge imparted in the years previous, and she realized now why Assistants could not take extra courses. The first three years, for Assistant-level students, were necessary to start understanding the basic fundamentals of magic, usually explained either in Elemental Magic for Mages, or the fighting arts for Warlocks.

  It was also the reason why true Assistants had such an advantage. They came into contact with these concepts from the deep end, their Proctors usually giving them one-on-one private instruction, which meant they rapidly pulled ahead of their fellow classmates. It was also the reason why there were so few Assistants – most could not handle the pressure, nor the workload.

  By the time the Blood Magic period was over, Liane's hand felt cramped.

  “Please review the lessons imparted today and for the rest of the week, as I will be conducting a test on the first day of next week,” the Doctora said as the lesson ended. “As this is the first day, I will not be setting any homework. You may depart.”

  Liane quickly filled the information into the calendar for bot
h Friday and over the weekend, ensuring that Cassandra would remember to study for the test on Monday. Liane's Proctor nodded at the redundant entries. Should she miss the entry on Friday, she would find it during the weekend.

  “You did well, Assistant,” Cassandra said as they left the room.

  “Thank you, Proctor,” Liane replied, rhythmically opening and closing her hand to try and relieve the cramp. She was not used to writing this much in such a short time – she had made more than three pages full of notes from only one period. It appeared that the Doctora liked to talk, and tended to give lots of side-information while explaining the concepts. It made it somewhat easier for Liane to follow, but also made her Assistant duties a lot harder.

  “You will learn to write down only the important information, Assistant,” Cassandra said as they walked to the older girl's next course, Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols. At least Liane felt somewhat confident about being able to follow this course. Or she at least hoped so.

  The Doctoris who taught that course was very different from the Doctora who taught Blood Magic. Where the Doctora was young, and somewhat stand-offish, the Doctoris of Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols was older, his hair having turned gray, but with a small and rather humor-filled grin on his lips, making his eyes crease.

  “Good morning, My Lords and Ladies, and welcome to Runes, Glyphs and Magical Symbols, year one,” the man said as he energetically paced the front of the room after sealing it. “In the following two years, we will be exploring the depths and intricacies of the various magical writing forms. I will teach you how to enchant, I will teach you to inscribe, and I will teach you to cast spells straight from a piece of paper.”

  He came to a stop in the center of the room. “I will also teach you how to take apart a standard spell, and modify it. Most people learn how to cast silently and without hand-gestures, and most even learn how to create simple spells for themselves. What I will teach you is how to build new and powerful spells, by yourselves, for yourselves.” The mischievous smile died away and the man seemed to inflate. “This class handles one of the most dangerous course-loads in the Academy. Most other classes can handle mistakes. A mistake in this class can result in your death, and if you make a really big mistake, it may even result in the deaths of those around you. Lords, Ladies, do not make such mistakes, for I will not have the chance to remove you from my class if you do.”

  And, just as fast, the grin was back. “Of course, one never learns without practicing, so I will encourage you to try and practice as much as possible. I am endlessly surprised by the ingenuity of a class of students given free reign.”

  Waving his hands, he went on, “Let us start with a simple inscription, a non-permanent enchantment.” He turned to the blackboard, and wrote a small runic phrase. Liane smiled and copied the Runes perfectly. Those were all known to her. “First things first, My Lords and Ladies. Does someone know the difference between a permanent and a non-permanent enchantment?”

  A few students tentatively lifted their arms, and the Doctoris called on one. The Warlock stood up.

  “Doctoris, I believe that a permanent enchantment is one that is permanently engraved on an item, while a non-permanent enchantment is written upon it, using ink or other materials.” The Warlock sat down, his answer delivered.

  The Doctoris shook his head. “Sadly, My Lord is mistaken. I believe that he is thinking about the difference between an enchantment, and a charm. A charm is a spell, using direct magic that will cause an item to gain different properties for a limited amount of time. A self-refilling charm on a glass, for example, would refill the glass maybe a dozen or so times, before failing. An enchantment, regardless of whether it is permanent or non-permanent, is always engraved upon the subject item. The difference lies in their method of power.”

  He turned back to the blackboard, and Liane struggled to write down the pertinent information. These were things she did not know, and which sounded very interesting to her.

  “A non-permanent enchantment would be like the Academy-supplied hairbrushes. The enchantment itself is permanent, but its power source is not. To power the enchantment, power tokens are required.” The Doctoris took a standard-sized power token out of his pocket, and waved it about. “These tokens are charged by Enchanters – which you may be if you choose to place enough effort in this class. Of course, larger enchantments require larger tokens; the largest tokens require two men to lift and can power a floating cart for a month. Because of this power source, Commoners are able to use non-permanently enchanted items.”

  The man wrote some more on the blackboard, then turned to face them once more. “A permanent enchantment needs to draw its power from somewhere else, as it uses no token. This means connecting itself to a wielder, or a user – this usually involves pain and blood. Using an enchanted object that is not yours means going through the pain of allowing it to bond to you – then allow it to draw magic through you. It is the reason why there are so few permanently enchanted objects, and why most permanently enchanted objects are family heirlooms that have gained tremendous power due to being handed down from generation to generation.”

  Liane ignored her cramping hand. This explained so much! She was truly going to enjoy Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols. “Now, on to something a little more fun than raw theory, My Lords and Ladies,” the Doctoris spoke, smiling slightly, “if you would open your desks, you will find a small sheet of metal, and a basic engraving pen. Please take them out, and engrave the runic phrase behind me on the metal. As you do so, does someone know what the phrase means?”

  Liane knew what the phrase meant, but didn't know whether she was permitted to answer or not. She glanced nervously at her Proctor. Cassandra caught the gaze, and gave an inquiring glance. Liane gave a tentative nod, replying to the nonverbal question with a nonverbal answer. Cassandra's lips quirked, and her head made a 'what are you waiting for?' motion.

  Hesitantly, Liane lifted her hand.

  The Lord Doctoris gave a wide smile, and motioned to her. “My Lady Assistant? You have a question?”

  Liane grew bright red at the attention she had suddenly gathered from the other students... and the other Assistants. “This humble Assistant believes the runic word will create fire, Doctoris,” she said, her voice tiny and halfway between whispering and speaking.

  “Please articulate, My Lady. I believe you have given a correct answer, but would like the other students to be able to hear you as well,” the man said, giving her a supportive look, at once telling her that her answer was correct, and should take more pride in it.

  “This Assistant believes the runic word will create fire, Doctoris,” Liane repeated.

  “Excellent, Lady Assistant,” the teacher said. When the other students kept staring at the blushing first-year Assistant, the man turned to them, and asked pointedly, “Has everyone finished with the engraving?”

  Scratching of pens on metal soon filled the room. Liane spent her time leafing through the text book, while Cassandra focused on her engraving. When Liane heard Cassandra stop, she closed the book, and looked over.

  Hurriedly, she took a piece of scratch paper, and wrote a few sentences. “Pardon me, Proctor, but do these notes suffice?” Liane asked.

  Cassandra looked over, took the paper, and read the lines. Looking down at the metal in front of her, she added a line to an incomplete rune that she had missed. “Those notes suffice splendidly, Assistant. Please keep up the good work,” the older girl replied, returning the paper.

  Liane sighed. Her first instinct had been to alert her Proctor to the mistake, but then everyone would have seen an Assistant correct a Proctor, thus causing her Proctor to lose face. This way, it had seemed as if she had been the one asking for guidance.

  “As you are all finished, I will come around with a power token, to charge the runes. Please ensure you did not make any errors, My Lords and Ladies,” the teacher said, walking to Liane and Cassandra to start his tour of the class.

&
nbsp; “Excellent work, My Lady,” the man said as he inspected Cassandra's engraving, and pressed the power token to the metal. The runes flashed, and a small flame appeared above them. He glanced at Liane, and winked, obviously having seen Liane help out her Proctor.

  The next student received a bang of malfunctioning magic as the faulty rune destabilized the rune word. Cassandra wrote something on the scratch paper as the Doctoris pointed out why mistakes were a bad idea, and why someone should always verify their work.

  Good work in keeping me from being an example, Assistant, she wrote, giving a small yet grateful smile at the younger girl.

  Liane gave her Proctor a small smile.

  “I believe I will finish the lesson here, My Lords and Ladies. For tomorrow, please turn to page 458 of your text books: Appendix A, table of Basic Runic Characters, and copy the table fifteen times. It is a small table, but the runes will require work. I will not spend this class explaining their meanings, and I have found copying to be the best way to ensure that you learn them as soon as possible. You may depart, until tomorrow.”

  The younger girl's pen swooped across the calendar, filling in the required work for Runes, Glyphs, and Magical Symbols: Page 458, fifteen copies of table.

  Liane rubbed her pained hand as she followed Cassandra to the General Applications class, the third year her Proctor was taking the class, out of a total of four years the class ran. Seeing the younger girl rub and twist her hand, Cassandra muttered some magic and waved her hand towards Liane's wrist.

  “Thank you, Proctor,” Liane spoke, careful to keep her voice level. They were in public, after all, and emotional outbursts were not appreciated.

  Cassandra gave a short nod. “You are welcome, Assistant. It is a Proctor's duty to take care of her Assistant, after all.”